


Majority Agreement

by owlpockets



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlpockets/pseuds/owlpockets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo was not averse to a little financial risk on occasion, being a hobbit of means, but the number of bets that took place among the dwarves as they traveled he found truly astounding.  Admittedly, there wasn’t much else to do most of the time; the ponies plodded and the scenery, while attractive, moved more slowly than molasses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Financial Risk

**Author's Note:**

> A collection of drabbles for a friend from the prompt "beard contest" that ended up more or less forming a cohesive story. Will be updated periodically with increasing ridiculousness.

Bilbo was not averse to a little financial risk on occasion, being a hobbit of means, but the number of bets that took place among the dwarves as they traveled he found truly astounding. Admittedly, there wasn’t much else to do most of the time; the ponies plodded and the scenery, while attractive, moved more slowly than molasses.

Bofur’s pony trotted up next to Bilbo’s and slowed to match pace. “Who do you reckon has the prettiest beard? Bombur’s insisting it’s his own, but I’ll wager Dori and Oin at least have got him beat.”

“I…don’t know? Why are you asking me?”

“Unbiased opinion, of course!” Bofur grinned. “And we’re just talking beards, not hair.”

“Well…” Bilbo huffed, twisting around to look over the options. “Bombur’s is…unique.”

Nori appeared on his other side, chin jutted out in what Bilbo figured was supposed to emphasize his facial attributes. “Care to back that up with a little coin?”

Behind them, Ori yelled delightedly, “Beard contest!” to which the others expressed great interest.

“Majority agreement, and you can’t vote for yourself,” Nori added.

“Count me out,” Bilbo laughed.

Bofur shook his head, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Nonsense, everyone gets a fair chance!”


	2. A Good Chance of Winning

“I think we have a good chance of winning.”

Bilbo’s brow furrowed and his lips puckered around the stem of his pipe as he swung his gaze to the right where Kili had joined him. “Are you touched in the head?”

“No, listen. No one said it had to be a _natural_ beard, right?” Kili leaned in conspiratorially and pulled a set of knitting needles from inside his coat. “I borrowed them from Ori. And we have a plentiful supply of horsehair.”

Bilbo was fairly certain this was a terrible idea, but he nodded. “I hope you know how to knit, because I don’t.”


	3. Proportional to Height

“Mr. Gandalf, I am certain that proportional to height, my beard measures longest.” Balin had one hand on his hip and the other was brandishing a tape measure. “I took your comment as a challenge, sir, so let us have the answer.”

Gandalf hemmed and hawed and choked slightly on his pipe smoke. “My dear Mr. Balin, I meant no disrespect. A contest is unnecessary.”

“Apology accepted, but the challenge still stands.”

Dwalin snorted and Bilbo looked up at him quizzically. “My brother suffers no insult to his beard,” he explained.

“Aye,” Thorin agreed. Bilbo was surprised to see the ghost of a smile on the king’s face. “Since he once lost it so tragically rescuing his lady friend from that kitchen fire.”

“Oh, she left ‘im on the spot after that!” Dwalin hooted. “Couldn’t stand the sight o‘im.”

Balin turned from his argument with Gandalf to eyeball his brother disapprovingly. “I’m sure Mr. Baggins is not interested in such ridiculous tales.”

“No, no, I’m very interested in…dwarvish…customs,” Bilbo hedged, to scattered laughter from around the camp behind him. He tried to meet Balin’s gaze, but ended up staring at his toes before escaping to relative safety behind Bombur’s bulk.


	4. Interlude

Bilbo couldn’t believe he was stuck on watch with Thorin. There were three reasons he figured this was a bad idea. One, he was pretty sure Thorin didn’t like him. Two, it also probably meant that Thorin didn’t trust him. Three, Bilbo had absolutely no idea what to talk about, or if he was even supposed to talk.

“Soo…” Bilbo fidgeted with his pipe, not lighting it. “Balin really had his beard burnt off once?”

“Yes.”

“It grew back, though. Obviously.” Bilbo laughed nervously.

Thorin was silent for several minutes and Bilbo wanted to crawl under a rock. Unexpectedly, the king spoke, “Dwalin cut off his mohawk to craft a false one for him to wear until it grew in again.”

“…Huh,” Bilbo replied, unsure if he was meant to laugh. “Brothers. I don’t have one, but it must be…nice.”

“Best not mention it to either of them,” Thorin mused.


	5. Carrying Extras

Bilbo’s stomach growled impossibly loudly. At home, he wouldn’t think much of it, but some of the looks he received from his traveling companions, ranging from amused to irritated, produced an embarrassment in Bilbo he had never experienced before in relation to appetite. 

“Oh, bother,” Bilbo muttered, surreptitiously searching his pockets for anything he might put in his stomach. His hands came up disappointingly empty. 

Bombur noticed the Hobbit’s plight and handed over a couple of biscuits. “Thank you,” Bilbo said, surprised at his generosity.

“It’s nothing. I carry extras,” Bombur answered. Bilbo was about to ask how, since he didn’t seem to have any clever extra pockets on his plain garments, but the answer presented itself when Bombur reached into his voluminous beard and pulled out several more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, one of the early designs for Bombur had him carrying snacks in little containers all over his beard. That was the inspiration for this drabble.


	6. The Difference Between Bears and Beards

Bifur was the very last of the company that Bilbo expected to become acquainted with. The axe in his head and the language barrier made him seem decidedly unfriendly. Secretly, Bilbo thought that Bifur had the most interesting beard with its tidily woven contrasting plaits.

One day, Bilbo mustered his courage and sat next to Bifur while he was carving. “Is that a bear?”

Bifur looked at him blankly, then made a sign with his hands and pointed to the half-finished wooden animal. Bilbo didn’t understand at first, and shook his head slightly, forehead crinkling. With another quick gesture, Bifur pointed at and stroked his beard, then repeated the first one at the bear.

“Oh, this means bear,” Bilbo mimicked the two signs, “and this means beard?”

Bifur shook his head and did them again, pointing at the appropriate objects. Bilbo had gotten them backwards; he laughed at himself.


End file.
